SILAS GRIG'S DINNER-PARTY--A NEW MEMBER OF THE MALACOPTERYGII--THE STORM
ON THE SEA OF ICE--BREAK-UP OF THE MAIN PACK--ROUGHING IT AT SEA.
While those two chiefs of the Eskimo Indians were hurrying their team of
dogs across the sea of ice eastwards, ever eastwards, with the clouds
rising behind them, with the wind whispering and moaning around them,
and sometimes raising the powdery snow in little angry eddies, that
almost hid the plunging dogs from their view, honest Silas Grig, though
somewhat uneasy in his mind as to what kind of weather was brewing,
busied himself nevertheless in preparing what he considered a splendid
dinner for his coming guests.
"But," he said to his mate, "it will just be like my luck, you know, if
it comes on to blow big guns, and we've got to leave good cheer and put
out to sea."
"Ah! sir," said the mate, "don't forget luck has turned, you know."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Silas, "really, matie, I _had_ a'most forgotten."
And away forward he hurried, to see how the men were getting on
scrubbing decks and cleaning brass-work, and how the cook was getting on
with that mighty sirloin of beef. He took many a ran forward as the day
advanced, often pausing, though, to give an uneasy glance windward, and
at the sun, not yet hidden by the rising clouds. And often as he did so
he shook his head and made some remark to his mate.
"I tell ye, matie," he said once, "I don't quite like the looks o' 't.
Those clouds ain't natural this time o' the year, and don't you see the
spots in the sun? Why, he is holed through and through like an old
Dutch cheese. Something's brewin'. But, talking of brewin', I wonder
how the soup is getting on?" [In Greenland these sunspots are quite
easily seen by the naked eye.]
Silas's face was more the colour of a new flower-pot than ever, when
McBain and our three heroes came alongside in their dashing gig, with
its beautiful paint and varnish, snow-white oars, flag trailing astern,
and rudder-ribbons, all complete.
Rory was steering, and he brought her alongside with a regular admiral's
sweep.
"Why, she's going away past us!" cried Silas; "no, she ain't. It is the
bow-and-bow business the young 'un's after."
"In bow?" cried Rory. "Way enough--oars!"
These were the only three orders Rory needed to give to his men. There
was no shouting of "Easy sta'board!" or "Easy port!" as when a lubber is
coxswain.
Next moment they were all on deck, shaking hands with the skipper and
his mate. The latter remained on deck; he didn't care for the company
of "quality;" besides, he had to loosen sails, and have all ready to get
in anchors at a minute's notice and put out to sea.
The skipper of the _Canny Scotia_ had contrived another seat at table,
so there was no such thing as crowding, and the dinner passed off
entirely to his satisfaction. The pea-soup was excellent, neither too
thick nor too thin, and the sippets done to a turn. Then came what
Silas called the whitebait.
"Which is only my fun, gentlemen," he observed, "seeing that they are
bigger than sprats. Where do I get them? Hey? Why, turn up a piece of
pancake-ice, and there they be sticking in the clear in hundreds, like
bees in a honeycomb, and nothing out but their bits of tails."
"It is curious," said Rory. "How do they bore the holes, I wonder?"
"That, young gentleman," replied Silas, "I can't say, never having seen
them at work. Maybe they melt the ice with their noses; they can't make
the holes with their teeth, their bows are too blunt and humble like.
Perhaps, after all, they find the holes ready-made, and just go in for
warmth. Queer, ain't it?"
"I believe," said Rory, "they belong to the natural order
_Malacopterygii_."
"The what?" cried Ralph; "but, pray, Row, don't repeat the word. Think
of the small bones; and McFlail isn't here, you know."
"Of which," continued Rory, "the _Clupeidae_" [Ralph groaned] "form one
of the families, belonging to which are the herring, the sardine, the
whitebait, and sprat."
"They may be sprats, or they may be young sperm-whales, for anything I
care," said Ralph; "but I do know they are jolly good eating. Captain
Grig, may I trouble you again?"
With the pudding came the green ginger, that Ralph was so anxious to
taste.
"The peculiarity of that pudding, gentlemen, is this," said
Silas--"eaten hot it _is_ a pudding, eaten cold it is a bun. The
peculiarity of the green--"
What more he meant to have said will never be known, for at that moment
the _Canny Scotia_ gave an angry cant to leeward, and away--extemporised
seat and all--went the skipper down upon the sta'board bulkheads; the
coalscuttle, the water-bucket, and the big armchair followed suit, and
there was consequently some little confusion, and a speedy break-up of
the dinner-party.
McBain's boat was called away, for the ship had slipped her ice-anchors,
and was drifting seaward, with the wind roaring wildly through rigging
and cordage. The gale had come upon them as sudden as a thunderclap.
Good-byes were hastily said, and away pulled the gig. She was in the
lee of the ice and partly sheltered, otherwise they never would have
regained the _Arrandoon_. As it was, the men were almost exhausted when
they got alongside.
Her anchors were well fast, and her cables were strong; there was little
fear of dragging for some time, so the order was given to at once get up
steam, and that, too, with all speed, for the force of the wind seemed
to increase almost momentarily. On the _Arrandoon's_ decks you could
scarcely have seen anything, for the snow blew blindingly from off the
ice; there was little to be heard either, for the shrill, harsh
whistling of the wind. Men flitted hither and thither like uneasy
ghosts, making things snug, and battening down the principal hatches; on
the bridge, dimly descried, was McBain, speaking-trumpet under arm, and
beside him Stevenson.
Down below, from fore to aft, everybody was engaged. In the stoke-hole
they were busy, and making goodly use of the American hams; in the
engine-room the engineers were looking well to their gear, with bits of
greasy "pob" in their hands, humming songs as they gave a rub here and a
nib there, though to what end or purpose I couldn't tell you, but
evidently on the best of terms with themselves and their beautiful
engine. The doctor was busy stowing his bottles away, and the steward
was making the pantry shipshape, and our heroes themselves were stowing
away all loose gear in their cabins. Presently they entered the saloon
again, where was Freezing Powders making the cockatoo's cage fast with a
morsel of lanyard.
"Here's a pretty to-do!" the bird was saying, half choking on a billful
of hemp. "Call the steward!--call the steward!--call the steward!"
"You jus' console yourse'f," said the boy, "and don't take sich big
mou'fuls o' hemp. Mind, you'll be sea-sick p'esently."
"De-ah me!"
"Yes, ye will--dreffully sea-sick. Den you wants to call de steward
plenty quick."
One ice-anchor came on board; the other--the bow--was cut adrift as the
ship's stern swung round seaward. Almost at the same moment an
explosion was heard close alongside, as if one of the boilers had burst.
The great berg to which they had been anchored had parted company with
the floe, and was evidently bent on going to sea along with the
_Arrandoon_.
Once they were a little way clear of the ice they could look about them,
the snow no longer blowing over the vessel. The scene was peculiar, and
such as can only be viewed in Greenland under like circumstances.
The whole field of ice, as far as it was visible, was a smother of
whirling drift; the lofty cone of Jan Mayen, which though miles to the
south'ard and west, had been so well-defined an object against the blue
of the sky, was now blurred and indistinct, and the grey, driving clouds
every now and again quite hid the top of it from view. All along the
edge of the pack the snow was being blown seaward like smoke, or like
the white spray on the rocks where billows break. The eastern horizon
was a chaos of dark, shifting billows, as tall as houses, and
foam-tipped; but near by the ice, although the wind blew already with
the force of a gale, and the surface of the water was churned into
froth, there was not a wave bigger than you would see on a farmer's
mill-pond.
What a pity it seemed to leave this comparatively smooth water and steam
away out into the centre of yonder mighty conflict 'twixt wind and wave.
But well every one on board knew that to remain where they were was but
to court destruction, for the noise that proceeded from the ice-fields
told them the pack was breaking up. Ay, and bergs were already forging
ahead of them, and surrounding them. Ere they were a mile from the
floes they found this out, and the danger from the floating masses of
ice was very real indeed. Every minute the pieces were hurtled with all
the force of the waves against the sturdy vessel's weather-side,
threatening to stave her; nor could McBain, who never left the bridge
until the vessel was well out to sea, avoid at times stemming the bergs
that appeared ahead of him. For often two would present themselves at
one time, and one must be stemmed--the smaller of the twain; for to have
come in collision bow on, would have meant foundering.
But at length the danger was past as far as the ice was concerned,
though now the seas were mountains high, and of Titanic force; so after
an hour or two the _Arrandoon_ lay to, and having seen the lights all
properly placed, and extra hands put on the look-out--having, in fact,
done everything a sailor could do for the safety of his ship, McBain
came down below.
In shining oil-skins and dripping sou'-wester, he looked like some queer
sea-monster that had just been caught and hauled on board.
He looked a trifle more human, however, when the steward had marched off
with his outer garments.
"Is she snug?" asked Allan.
"Ay, lads, as snug as she is likely to be to-night," replied McBain;
"but she doesn't like it, I can tell you, and the gale seems increasing
to hurricane force. How is the glass, Rory?"
"Not so very low," said Rory; "not under twenty-nine degrees."
"But concave at the top?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, well," said McBain, "content yourselves, boys, for I think we'll
have days of it. I for one don't want to see much more of the ice while
this blow lasts. But what a splendid fire you have! Steward, mind you
put on the guard last thing to-night."
"Why the guard?" asked Rory.
"Because," explained McBain, "I feel certain that many a good ship has
been burned at sea by the fire falling out of the grate; a wave or a
piece of ice hits her on the bows, the fire flies out of the stove, no
one is below, and so, and so--"
"Yes," said Ralph, "that is very likely, and pray don't let us speak of
anything very dreadful to-night. List! how the wind roars, to be sure!
But to change the subject--Peter."
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Is supper ready?"
"Very nearly, sir."
"Well, tell Seth to come, and Magnus."
"Ho! ho!" said McBain, "that's it, is it?"
"What a comfort on a night like this," Allan remarked, "it is to be
shipmates with two such fellows as Ray and Row, the epicure and the
poet--the one to cater for the corporeal, the other for the mental man."
The ship was pitching angrily, dipping her bows deep down under the
solid seas and raising them quickly again, but not neglecting to ship
tons of water every time, which found its way aft, so that down in the
saloon they could hear it washing about overhead and pouring past the
ports into the sea.
"Steady, sir, steady," cried Magnus, entering the saloon. He was
speaking to Seth, who had preceded him. He didn't walk in, he came in
head first, and was now lying all his length on the saloon floor.
But Rory and Allan lifted him tenderly up again and seated him on the
couch, amid such remarks as, "No bones broken, I do hope," "Gently does
it, Seth, old man," "Have you really left your sea-legs forward?" "Call
the steward," the last remark being the cockatoo's.
"I reckon," said the old trapper, rubbing his elbows and knees, "there
ain't any bones given way this time, but that same is more chance than
good management."
After supper--which was of Ralph's own choosing, I need not say more--a
general adjournment was made to the after-cabin, or snuggery, and here
every one adopted attitudes of comfort around the blazing stove, in
easy-chairs, on sofas, or on rugs and skins on the deck; there they sat,
or lounged, or lay. The elders had their pipes, the youngsters coffee.
But with the pitching and rolling of the ship it was not very easy
either to sit, or lounge, or lie, nor was it advisable to leave the
coffee in the cup for any length of time; nevertheless everybody was
happy, for wondrous little care had they on their minds. Oh! how wild
and tempestuous the night was, and how madly the seas leapt and tossed
around them! But they had a ship they could trust, and, better by far,
a Power above them which they had learned to put confidence in.
Seth, to-night, was in what Ralph called fine form. His stories of
adventure, told in his dry, droll, inimitable way, were irresistible.
De Vere's face never once lacked a smile on it; he loved to listen
though he could not talk.
Old Magnus also had some queer tales to tell, his relation of them
affording Seth breathing space. Several times during the evening Rory
played, and the doctor tooted, as he called it.
Thus merrily and pleasantly sped the time--every one doing his best to
amuse his neighbours--until eight bells rang out, then all retired.
It is on such a night as this that the soundest sleep visits the pillow
of your thorough sailor--the roar of the wind overhead, the rocking of
the ship, and the sound of the waves close by the ear, all conduce to
sweetest slumber.
There was little if any improvement in the weather next day, nor for
several days; but cold and stormy though it was, to be on the bridge,
holding on--figuratively speaking--by the eyelids, was a glorious treat
for our sailor heroes. The masts bent like fishing-rods beneath the
force of the gale. At times the good ship heeled until her yard-ends
ploughed the waves, and if a sea struck her then, the spray leapt higher
than the main-truck, and the green water made a clean breach over her.
On the second day the clouds were all blown away, but the wind retained
its force, and the waves their power and magnitude. Every wave
threatened to come inboard, and about one out of ten did. Those that
didn't went singing astern, or got in under the _Arrandoon_, and tossed
her all they could. The frost was intense, and in some way or other, I
think, accounted for the strange singing noise emitted by those waves
that went past without breaking. But it was when one great sea followed
swiftly on the heels of another that the good ship suffered most,
because she would probably be down by the head when she received salute
number two. It was thus she had her bulwarks smashed, and one good boat
rent into matchwood and cast away.
It was no easy task to reach the bridge, nor to rush therefrom and
regain the saloon companion. You had to watch the seas, and were
generally pretty safe if you made use of arms and legs just after one or
two big waves had done their worst; but Allan once, and Rory three
times, were washed into the scuppers, and more bruised than they cared
to own. Ralph seldom came on deck, and the doctor just once got his
head above the companion; for this piece of daring he received a sea in
the teeth, which he declared nearly cut his head off. He went down
below to change his clothes, and never came up again.
On the third day, in the dog-watch, the wind fell, and the sea went down
considerably. Had the gale blown from the east, the sea would have been
in no such hurry to go down, but it had continued all the time to blow
steadily from off the ice. What a strange sight the _Arrandoon_ now
presented! She was a ship of glass and snow. Funnel, masts, and
rigging were, or seemed to be, composed of frosted crystal. The funnel,
Rory declared, looked like a stalactite from "the cave of a thousand
winters." Her bows were lumbered with ice feet thick, and from stem to
stern there was no more liveliness in the good _Arrandoon_ than there is
in a Dutch collier.
As soon as the wind fell a man was sent up aloft, and the order was
given,--
"All hands clear ship of ice."
But hark! there is a shout from the crow's-nest.
"Large ship down to leeward, sir, apparently in distress."